The Black King
by Kurai-Tenshi of Doom
Summary: AU TE, Tomoyo's village is attacked by the Black King. It's been done, I'm just hoping my writing is better then others. Give it a shot, you have nothing better to do...
1. Chapter 1

The Black King

Chapter 1:

AN: Should not be doing this. ButI am. So bite me. Okay. First E/T fic. No flames please, I really hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Will thumb-wrestle for Eriol...

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Love and peace,

Kurai-Tenshi of Doom

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"It's no use; the Black King is already upon us. There is no way we can save the whole village. Many will perish." Seika heard the report, but her chief advisor made it sound so…final. "You must escape now your highness. If you do not, the legacy of your people will die in this purge this tyrant is seeping into our land." The man was taking great many risks to speak as such, but then again with a female ruler, a youth no less, it was felt the advisors made all the real decisions. Seika's timid features wrinkled slightly, ironic for the land she ruled being the only one strongly opposed that she should have such docile ways and looks, being faced with this decision. She couldn't abandon her people.

The cries of anguish below from her soldiers fighting so hard to protect her meek fortress gave her the decision. Her once-timid brow straightened and she looked the ruler her father had been fabled to be. Her eyes were liquid fire as she glared at her chief advisor. The man stepped back, reminded in turn of the recently deceased king. "I will die, for leaving my people to suffer as such could give me no greater pain. I only hope and pray for my survival, but if this is my time I shall go with my head held high." Her voice thunder mimicking the approaching storm just a mile off.

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Tomoyo was a young peasant girl lucky enough to have been gifted with an education. The rest of her village's girls had mocked her and laughed as she had apparently wasted her childhood being taught how to read and speak other languages and learn of the world. Her whole childhood had been a torture for her. Ever since the Plague had taken her mother, she'd had almost no way to continue her education, so she settled for teaching herself. At the age of sixteen she took up a sort of questioning process and attempted to answer her own questions. It had made her more introverted then anything.

She had been long-since distanced from the rest of the villagers, working only in the bakery helping to mold bread all day and coming home soaked in flour and reeking of cooking oil, but having mayhap found the reason for existence, or why her village seemed so much like a farm-pen with animals that had an animalistic mentality, and were set on only accepting their own species, which she was not. Quiet and shy, her small appearance and mannerisms echoed all the lack of self-esteem she had. Although she prided herself for being a learned girl and not having the same mindless goals of marriage and children as all the other girls, now women, in her village, she sometimes thought she would give it all up just for a friend.

She never spoke too loudly, hardly spoke at all in fact, and always wore her too-long out of fashion hair in her face so as to block out all other humans from speaking to her. After hormones had affected all the girls-now-women in the village as well as the boy-now-men, Tomoyo had been even more forsaken when all the boys had started to stumble around her, or make stupid small-talk that never really lasted. She had stolen all their hearts, even coated in grime, flour and smelling horribly, with somewhat matted hair. It was the inner glow, slightly tarnished, but still there, her hope in all things living. Her love for life and the world that attracted their attentions'. Of course having a very thin waist, with lush curves and nice full breasts with a tawny stomach and skin as white as snow didn't really avoid their attentions' either.

But Tomoyo could care less. Who wanted all those scrawny little-minded, chauvinistic men anyways? Plus they all seemed inbred to her, which didn't help. Her mother had been a wild gypsy carrying Tomoyo in her teens' and had settled here for reasons she never mentioned. Tomoyo didn't know who her father was; she didn't care. She had a general suspicion for the male race anyways. They meant so little to her. As other girls' were being married off, Tomoyo was out getting her useless education, the only girl among five boys, and then after her mother's death when Tomoyo was fourteen working to support herself on meager food and little living comfort.

Lack of food had only improved her hour-glass figure, and as her ebony hair had grown longer she had tangled it purposefully, even rolled in some gunk to stop people form looking at her. She still had no idea why, not realising the impact puberty had on people her age.

The day of her eighteenth birthday, her village was attacked by the feared ruler of the neighbouring China known as the Black King. His name served him. He left no survivors and took all he wanted by force. His men raped and plundered until they got all they wanted. Tomoyo heard the cries of battle on the edge of the village. The other villagers were trying to flee into the forests, but were hunted down. Tomoyo heard the begging for mercy, the pleas for help, and the cries to a God that had long since turned His back on those who suffered.

She heard all this from the hole she'd dug under her small hut. She'd peeled away the type of thin wooden flooring and grabbing only her mother's ivory locket, given to her by Tomoyo's father is what her mother had told her and a few pieces of some bread she hid under the floor placing it back over herself and curled in the fetal position, listening to her people being massacred above her. She was in a simple shift, having just been dismissed from work for the day with full pay on account of her birthday. She had been cleaning up what little she could.

Her eyes remained dry, although inside her something else was breaking and crying out, something more or less like her sanity clawing for freedom from consciousness, so she listened to it and eventually passed out in the hole, shivering from the winter cold.

When she woke, there was still fighting but an odd dream had given her a new disposition. She straightened herself and stuffed the stale and slightly moldy bread in her mouth before she pushed herself out of her prison, like a butterfly from its cocoon. Madness had taken her now; it was obvious in her blood-shot eyes and shaking frail body. Deep, deep black rims decorated her normally breath-taking emerald eyes. (AN: Don't think that's what colour they are, but I don't care if it's right, I like green eyes!)

She stumbled and fell, her mother's locket clattering out of her hands. Outside, among clashing swords and horses neighing she heard screams of the dying. She let her normally elegantly-held hands claw across her floor and pick it up, cradling it to her chest. She stood again, needing to use her ratty old hole-filled table to keep her balance as she threw open her door.

All her resolve melted, and her mental state took the plunge into the deep, yet waking, oblivion of madness. She walked out into the throes of the battle between blood-thirsty warriors and some few knights and villagers fighting merely for survival.

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The Black King yanked his sword from another soldiers dying body. He'd told his men to try not to kill all the villagers, but apparently they'd lost their control again. All of them would receive either death or lashings that would make them want death. He faced back towards the edge of the village and saw something that made him blink, pause then rub his eyes, smearing blood from his sword and hands onto normally white skin. Like paint on a canvas.

A girl. A girl was walking amidst his battle. A blood-haze hung ominously in the air, making it hard not to inhale the crimson sheen, and a white vision of a girl walked though the midst of it. It was sheer luck that she hadn't been slain.

She wore a simple white shift, which was now crimson at the ends and with a wide-eyed glazed stare she moved in a straight line for the fortress it looked like. She was mad. He saw that now. If not temporarily, then she had snapped for good. He thought for a moment he himself had snapped, for with her white attire and black looks she looked like some kind of angel fallen into Hell itself. He saw one of his men galloping on one of the still alive horses straight towards her, and knew his intention. Plunder and rape had not been instruction he'd given, but they did them anyways. At least this man saw her too, which meant she was no augury only in his slightly crazed mind.

He kicked his horse, the mighty black stallion Zeus, forward across the battlefield. It was a race against time. Why he was pursuing her, he could not fathom, but her pure etherealness had amazed him from afar, and seeing something so apparently angelic up close was too good a chance for the cold-blooded king to pass up.

As he neared her, he bent sideways to scoop her up onto his saddle. All who saw him thought him to be his horse's name, the great and powerful thunder God, Zeus. The man pulled to a stop, but with the momentum he fell from the horse. Maybe his neck cracked, who cared? The girl was his only focus now.

His arm looped around her waist, and when he felt the amazing softness and frailness to her, he almost dropped her for fear she may break in half. But instead he yanked harder and her whole body jerked up like a rag doll thrown by an infant. Then she was on his lap, in his horse's saddle, legs dangling over the side, head resting on his opposite leg. Although he didn't mind the nice soft body on his lap, he decided to move her.

He had her sitting up now, her head lolling against his chest. She was limp, but still conscious, if not by much. Her glassy eyes seemed smoky, but for a moment right before she fell forwards in a dead faint they cleared and she whispered in a raspy voice that would be so soothing when cleaned up a bit:

"The Plague has arrived…"

Then she slumped forwards and he was grasping a seemingly fainted girl in a shift that was riding up in a very tempting manner. He reminded himself that anything inappropriate would be a horrible crime even the Black King would not commit. It was very hard.

As his men lit fire to the village and slaughtered the advisors and eventually the young ruler he re-positioned the girl and decided to bring her home with him.

Eriol Hirigizawa turned his black foreboding stallion around and rode off into the deep forest as the rain began in great drowning bursts and the thunder made a declaring, but mournful cry against the dimmed stars.

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AN2: Love is always welcome, but not hate. No flames, but constructive criticism is nice. Thanks, any questions, just ask.

Imagine,

Kurai-Tenshi of Doom


	2. Chapter 2

The Black King

Chapter Two

Eriol was amazed by the fact that the girl slept through the week travel back to his castle. It was only when he carried her over his shoulder that he realised he should probably clean her up and get her at least a new shift, if nothing else. He left her with a terrified younger maid and ordered her to be placed in his room after she was properly bathed and fed. He was escorted off by his chirruping advisors all telling him about some new crises that demanded his immediate attention. He sighed, completely exasperated and followed them to his throne room, ready to hear all the ridiculous claims. It was going to be a very long day and night.

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The first time Tomoyo awoke was in a bath. She thought she must be dreaming, in some kind of illusion, after who knows how long of her consciousness drifting only in blackness. The last memory she had was for some reason being curled in a little ball under her floor. Pain ripped through her when she tried to move. Her muscles screamed at her after so little use, then trying so fast now. "Shh, my child calm down. You're safe now, and I'm only trying to wash the dirt from behind your ears if you would just relax." The voice was old, she could tell by the gritty feel it had, but it soothed her enough to stop panicking and lay back.

All around her field of hazy and swimming visions was steam, and as she leaned back an ivory rim of the bath. A woman was perched above her, giving her the kindest smile Tomoyo had received in almost five years. She couldn't find the muscles after so much misuse to smile back, but she tried to. The woman chuckled, so Tomoyo assumed she'd crashed and burned at that. She let it drop fast and did as she was told to lay her throbbing head on the cold rim. Well, cold compared to the searing, yet relaxing, heat of the bath.

"This here's a natural spring. Won't find many of these indoors, nya?" Tomoyo blinked at the odd expression, but when the woman began to massage scented oils into her scalp and soap her upper body her shyness erased and her whole body un-tensed under the old woman's strong hands. Tomoyo fell into a sleep at that point, as calm as she was. This very brief sleep was a healing sleep and she dreamed at this point.

In her dream a man on a horse that seemed to be on fire swept her up into his arms and gave her her first real passionate kiss. Her lips began to burn then, and in her dream she struggled. A voice came into her dream, interrupting it and waking her up slowly. "Hold the poor dear still, the Black Bastard must've barely fed her and the state she's in…" There was a clicking of a tongue and Tomoyo's vision snapped back roughly as she saw a pair of chop-sticks holding some noodles up to her mouth. She jerked back and nearly toppled out of the chair someone had placed her in.

A young woman was holding her shoulders, which had stopped her fall and the older woman from earlier was attempting to feed her. The old woman looked concerned, but the younger was nervously biting her lip. "Oh, Isa, I should've taken care of her, but I was so nervous he'd get mad at me…or I'd mess it up so horribly…" Tomoyo let the old woman put the noodles in her mouth as she opened her lips obediently. The younger girl let out a cry of relief, and the old woman cooed comfortingly to Tomoyo.

"Well, Yuka, relax. She's fine now, and His Majesty is going to get an earful from me for mistreating her so, nya?" the old woman sounded infuriated. Tomoyo pitied whoever 'His Majesty' was. As she accepted the noodles into her mouth then drank the broth in shaky hands she felt a slight sate from her hunger. But it was somehow not really penetrating her brain that she was half starved.

The old woman sighed and got up. They were in the kitchens it looked like, but Tomoyo's head was spinning suddenly. Her mouth felt like cotton. The old woman, Isa her name was, suddenly placed a cup in Tomoyo's hands. "Here dear. A small concoction to give you some glow back in those beautiful cheeks and let you sleep a good healthy sleep. He'll not be layin' a hand on this one." Tomoyo was barely listening, she drained the whole thing in two gulps and Isa's warm hazel eyes were the last thing she saw as her mind once again fell into the deep shroud that was healing sleep.

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Eriol sighed as he made his way to his lavish chambers. The "crises" he'd had to handle had only been little problems his advisors, being the idiots they all were, only wanted his advice for so they could all readily agree to it. His ass got kissed a bit too much for his liking. He ran a hand through his newly brushed hair and opened his door roughly.

His long legs helped him swivel gracefully to close it and when he turned back around he almost started when he saw the thing on his bed. Then he remembered. The girl. His battle angel. He cautiously made his way to the bed. Someone, probably Isa knowing the kooky maid's ways, had tucked the small slip of a girl under his ivory sheets. She was curled in a small ball, her long hair pulled back loosely.

His first realisation was that she had on a dress this time, a white thing, long enough so that it covered her legs; he could tell this from the shape of the thin material under the sheets. His room was very dimly lit, the lantern on his bedside table the only light, but it cast her in a pool of yellow grace and even with his stone heart and jaded soul she still stole his breath quite effectively.

So pale! Paler then him even, and such beautiful ebony hair! So long, he figured it must be at least down to her thighs. Her face was nice and round, cheekbones high, but not in a bony fashion. Her small nose made him think of a word he'd never even imagined before: cute. Her large doe-like eyes were closed, long sooty eyelashes resting like doves' wings on her cheekbones.

Although her face was so innocent and peaceful, so much so he felt a tickling at his heart, some feeling that was so rare, her lips and body were most definitely that of a seductress. Lush ruby red lips that made him want to bite them till they bled and the softness in that body; the frail way about her…she called out for protection. And he'd never felt this before, but a small part of him wanted to be that protection. Her hand was tucked under the pillow beneath her head. He almost wished she was now sprawled across his lap. Small tremors ran through her he noticed.

His brow furrowed, and he rose to his fireplace starting a small blaze, enough to supply a halo of light and give some warmth to his stone-cold room. He took a seat in a narrow-backed but lush chair he had and mulled it over in his mind. She was the most perfect, beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Although he felt no emotion, besides awe and lust, towards her he briefly considered a problem persisting for him as of late: he needed a wife. His advisors told him a political match would be best, especially for the king of China and their somewhat conquered enemy Japan. Maybe marrying one of their people would settle this.

Anyways, once he had her she would be free from his mind and this disturbing momentary weakness of feeling would leave him. He could get over her, and then maybe have her killed, or something. It might work. He would think it over. He licked his slightly parched lips as a new vision came to him: that beautiful hair falling across his pillow, her on her back as naked as the day she was born, him thrusting inside her, over and over, her screaming his name again and again, so much pain and pleasure on her face it made _him_ want to scream, her back arched euphorically, as his eyes devoured her lush body, nibbling on her smooth neck, leaving red marks all over her to mark her as his, no one else would ever have her- His eyes snapped open.

Erotic daydreams were one thing, but picturing possession was another. Lusting after her required no feeling, but making her _his_? No, that did _not_ happen. He ran a hand through his hair again and looked back to her. Her lips opened slightly and he imagined kissing her hard and ferociously until she woke up. Then he shook his head. What was he? A promiscuous juvenile? No, he had never been this caught up in want, and he promised himself he would have her then be done.

He sat up fast and moved back to the bedside. He sat on the edge noticing how her small body made almost no indent on his large bed. His hand reached out and he gently pulled on the twine that held her hair restricted. Like a great cloak it fell out in a shimmering pool fell around her face and body. A strand landed near his hand supporting his body on the bed. He was too enraptured by his candle-lit angel to notice. He reached his hand out again and ran his hand through her hair, so carefully, so gently, lest he break her, he with such blood-stained roughened hands.

He felt almost ashamed for a moment, before he reminded himself that the Black King was humbled by no one. As he made his third round through hair like a dark pool of water her eyes shot open, and her whole demeanor radiated fear. He almost jumped away from her, hand still tangled in her hair. She jerked away from him with a whimper and her newly washed silk hair flowed right through his fingers. Her eyes gave him his decision. In them he could see a soul, her soul, too beautiful for him to soil. Such innocence and hope and fear and even love in those eyes even if none of it were directed towards him. She had the eyes of one who has lived through oceans of suffering and yet has remained unaffected. They were like an open book as he saw himself reflected in the depths. She was first terrified, then embarrassed for some reason, then confused, then frightened again.

Her eyes flicked around his room, focusing on the fire and then she must have realised she was cold, because she wrapped her arms around herself and started to quake. In shaky Chinese she stated: "Don't hurt me…" Eriol felt his heart hardening. So what if her eyes made him melt somehow, he was still the Black King and she his prisoner. He pulled away from the bed and stood, making his way to the fire. Once before it he placed his arms behind his back. She was watching him nervously, he felt that much.

He cleared his throat and in his deep, deep voice said clearly trying to not show anything he was feeling: "Calm yourself, girl. I wouldn't disgrace myself by killing you."

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Tomoyo's eyes shot open so hard they twitched slightly afterwards. There was a man leaning over her, a very menacing man. His hand was tangled in her hair. She cried out and threw herself away from him, crawling across the bed. She tried to get a hold of her fear, but panic was too strong. She had no idea where she was, in some strange bed with a man running his hands through her hair. Although she hadn't really minded. She had felt him doing it half-asleep and half-awake, and thought of a father she'd never really known. Then she realised her father was dead and she had somehow been taken from her village. So who was committing such a soothing act to her? That's what had woken her so abruptly.

Everything about the man seemed….dare she say, black? His incredibly pale skin, his black eyes, which were actually just a sort of deep azure but they looked black to her in the light, and his hair which looked blacker then hers'. He was tall and powerful she could see that even though he was half-perched on the bed. Quite a big bed, she noticed. It could fit at least five people comfortably.

Where was she? Who was this man? So many questions. She came to the fact that she was in an elegant white shift of a thicker material which reminded her she was cold and when she saw the fire on the far side of the room she wrapped her arms around herself and began to tremble not just from cold but from fear as well. She thought of all the fears her mother had instilled in her about rape and how some men weren't as nice as all the boys she used to play with.

She looked back to him, trying to stay calm, but failing. Her mind searched for the right Chinese. She knew who this man was suddenly. She remembered. "Don't hurt me…" she saw something in his slightly softened face harden and his eyes narrowed. He stood then and like a panther walked back to the fire standing before it. She could only think of some fabled demon, what with the fiery outline and his tight black pants and white shirt which wasn't laced all the way, but instead hanging open for her to view his very muscular chest. Tomoyo swallowed. Her heart was doing a can-can on her ribs. Then he spoke in fluent Japanese: "Calm yourself girl, I wouldn't disgrace myself by killing you."

That somehow wasn't very comforting. Tomoyo rested back against the headboard. "Are-Are you the Black King?" she stuttered. She saw him stiffen physically. She felt like she was throwing things at him instead of asking him simple questions. "My name is Eriol Hirigizawa (AN PLEASE excuse me if it's spelled wrong, haven't reviewed my facts in awhile ;). I am the king of all you see. And since you are my prisoner, I am now your king as well." He turned back around, and Tomoyo's heart stopped beating. He was like a piece of art at that moment, all tense narrowed eyes, pale skin glowing almost orange in the firelight, which was his backdrop so to speak and the way his hair had then fallen into his face. Terrified as she was, Tomoyo was still amazed by his beauty. Even for a man. She clasped her hands to her chest and didn't answer him.

She had a suspicion her face was colouring. She was always blushing when under scrutiny and his eyes were too intense for her to meet. She hated the timid little thing she was. Now was the time to change. She would be a thorn in this man's side; she would not give in, for the memory of her people and her country! She looked back to him and with trembling lips she protested: "I will not bow to you." It wasn't a powerful protest to bring him to his knees, but she saw the flash of maybe anger in his eyes. He advanced in his panther-like way towards the bed.

Tomoyo held her head up and watched him, trying not to shake herself to pieces. This man was so much more powerful then her, he could do whatever he wanted to her. She was just a silly girl to him. Why wasn't she dead? He must've killed all the others', why bring her back and clean her up and feed her? And why wasn't she in a prison or something being his prisoner? She had something he wanted. What she had no idea, but there was some reason she was still alive and in very good condition. This gave her more courage.

He stopped at the edge so his legs were touching the sheets. She did the most powerful thing she could think of and met his eyes. There was fire there. And not metaphorically speaking. She could almost feel the flames in his eyes licking her skin. His lips were pulled in a very straight line and he looked positively terrifying. Somehow this cold anger was worse then if he had been screaming at her or beating her. "You will _not_ disobey me. You are only alive because I decided a woman for my bed was not such a bad idea. But it seems I picked the bitch of the litter." His voice was so cold she could almost picture his words like icicles shooting at her.

She flinched. Her face blanched and her stomach bungee-jumped into her feet. It was exactly as she'd thought. He was going to take her most precious gift. Tomoyo held her chin up and looked away from his eyes. "You cannot keep me forever, and I will warm no one's bed that I haven't chosen myself. You will get _nothing_ from me." She even surprised herself with the venom in her voice. "I would sleep with the pigs then with you, you bastard." She'd crossed a line, she knew it, but some part of her had wanted to test his boundaries.

He said one word that made her whole body freeze like an ice statue. "Strip." Her head whipped up to meet his eyes. She wished she hadn't. At that moment, Tomoyo had never felt so frightened, not even when she attended her own mother's funeral and none of the villagers had offered her any method to take care of her. She'd never felt so alone. He was too serious to be mocking her. Yet she knew he was; he was using his intimidation to control her. She wanted to spit on him, but she also wanted to crawl under the sheets and never have to look at him again. "No." she answered, switching back to Chinese.

His face shadowed and his hair fell into his face. "You will learn not to trifle me girl." Then he leaned forward and grabbed her by her arm. Tomoyo screamed, but she knew it would do no good; he dragged her forward too easily, like she was a small ribbon. He lifted her up and pinned her on the bed on her back. His legs trapped her own on the edge and his arms pinned hers over her head. He leaned over her and hovered like some kind of perverted angel. His eyes were fires again. "I own you now." he hissed. Tomoyo tried to struggle, but he was much too strong. "I belong to no one!" she cried out.

He growled and let her go, leaning away, but still pinning her legs. She punched his chest. The rock hard muscle almost broke her hand. He grabbed her hand on its second round on his chest and the other when she tried to strike with it. "Shhh…calm down…stop struggling! STOP!" And she did. His voice had been like an earthquake and had frozen her solid. Once again scared she gazed at him wide-eyed. "I won't hurt you, girl. And I won't take anything from you that you aren't willing to give me." Tomoyo was in disbelief. What had changed his demeanor all of a sudden? He looked down into her eyes.

Her breath caught and her heart began to hammer very hard. Where hate had fueled her actions before, now she felt horribly attracted to this man pinning her to the bed. Damn it all, she was blushing again! But his eyes, when not glaring or narrowed in anger were so absolutely stunning! It seemed like whole galaxies' spun inside them. She felt her head spinning and her mind floating off into a dream-land when she gazed into them. "Are you relaxed?" his voice was so hypnotic she nodded like a dummy.

His eyes closed to her and frosted over now and any sign of humanity she saw in them was gone. "Good. I have some things to take care of. Go back to sleep, and know that I give you my word that I will not touch you without your permission." He took a step back, and Tomoyo nearly crumbled from the bed onto the floor, not just because his legs were gone, but also because his nice warm weight had felt very comforting. She pushed herself awkwardly back to the far side and curled into a small ball before stuffing her legs under the covers. He had turned away from her, but his voice had lost its pressure and boom it normally had and was now just a soft purr almost.

She watched him suspiciously until he made his way to a door on the far side of the room. He opened the door and the inky blackness made it too hard to see. He re-emerged with a new shirt, much like the one he was wearing. She eep-ed as he slipped off his old one and slid on the new one, tying the sleeves and still not lacing the front. For the brief moment he had been half-naked before her she had glimpsed a god-like figure. His skin was still as pale beneath his shirt, but his chest had been decorated with an array of shiny red marks that she assumed were new and old scars. He had wide shoulders, although his waist was very thin and skinny.

The only men she had ever seen partially naked had been the boys in the village when they were hard at work. All the other girls' had gathered around and ooh-ed and ahhh-ed at them, but it had seemed to idiotic to Tomoyo and always a little odd the way they had all flexed and tried to get her attention when they were. She ignored them, but he was too hard not to ignore. Her eyes had been riveted much to her own shame, and a feeling she'd never felt before had erupted in her. He looked up at her as he ran a hand through his hair letting it fall back into place.

His eyes widened for a moment before he looked away in an almost guilty way and moved to the door. He paused just before it. "I'll be as courteous and supply you with all you need; all I ask is that you do not leave this room. My protection extends only as far as this hallway, after you leave it, my men will not listen to me, and will take you by force, or kill you for being what you are. I suggest, not for me, but for you, you stay in this room. If you value your life." He didn't turn around to see if she had agreed, he just left. After she heard his footsteps echo away she collapsed into a sobbing pile.

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As Eriol re-adjusted his shirt and ran his hands through his hair he looked back to the girl. He was surprised for a moment. She was watching him in an odd way; a way that made his throat dry up and his heart skip a beat. There was a very adorable blush painted just on her cheeks, faint, but there all the less, and her eyes were half-lidded and smoky. His need to have her increased ten-fold and he looked away, feeling slightly guilty after having just made that idiotic promise. But he'd felt he needed her trust first, and promising her he wouldn't fulfill her fear had been the only thing he could think of. He had to leave now.

Feeling her pressed under him had felt too good for him not to take advantage of again. Her face and the feel of her body were pressed into his memory forever now. He left, but stopped just before the door. He gave her a very true warning in order to convince her not to leave the room. He didn't turn to look back at her; he couldn't because he knew he would jump her on that bed, innocent little thing she was.

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Later, near midnight, Eriol made his way back to his room. He only prayed she was asleep. On the way he bumped into his head captain of his army. Syaoran Li. Li gave him an odd look. "What's the matter? You look like you're marching into battle." He was still in his armour, but that wasn't uncommon for the serious general. "I think I am." Eriol muttered. "I haven't seen you this caught up since your father died." Eriol's eyes met Li's. Li returned his glare coldly.

"That intimidation bullshit doesn't work on me Eriol. You've been giving me that poison glare since we've been nursed by dear old Isa. You don't want to tell me what's going on then don't." Li shrugged and moved around him. Put-out that it didn't work on Li he called over his shoulder: "How's Sakura?" his question was smug and meant to pierce. It hit home. Li whipped around and in a movement expected of his military leader he threw his dagger in his belt at Eriol's back.

Eriol whipped around and caught the hilt as it flew by. He grinned. "Stellar aim, but you missed anyways. I can have her delivered to your rooms' right now…naked." His eyebrow's wiggled. This was as frivolous as he got, and only Li had brought this out of him. Li howled in anger and launched himself at Eriol. Eriol met him. The two threw a few punches. "You will not disgrace her by speaking like that!" Li shouted. Eriol shook his head. "A fool in love…" he trailed off. "Gentlemen!" they both stopped mid-punch. "Speak of the devil…" Eriol muttered. Standing in her doorway of her rooms was Sakura herself.

She was the heir to the position of High Priestess in Eriol's castle. Eriol looked sneakily to his friend. He was blushing and watching the ground. "Hello little Sakura. How is your night going?" Eriol asked causally. Sakura glared at him, and even though she only came up to his chest she was pretty menacing. "Li and I were just talking about you. Now if you'll excuse me." And he dismissed himself.

Sakura and her mother had been living here since Li and Eriol had been twelve and for Li it had been love at first sight. Poor little Sakura was much too oblivious to realise that the man was madly in love with her. Eriol thought they were both pathetic. Then he thought of the girl sleeping in his bed that he could only think about to want her and he shook his head. He was too dirty for her. Normally such a thing was not a problem, but it was her eyes that made him feel unworthy, even if he would never admit it. Those eyes were her very soul, and to damage her would be to damage her soul. Even if he cared nothing for anyone but himself he still had no desire to destroy that beautiful girl. She deserved more then that.

He was at his room faster then he thought. He entered, trying to be quiet. He saw her small form curled up in the fetal position again. She had cried herself to sleep. His brow furrowed. Her crying triggered some protective instinct inside him, and knowing he was the one who had done it to her made him hate himself. She mewed in her sleep and rolled over. Her back was to him. Since she was on the far side of the bed, he did what he'd wanted to do since he'd met her. He slipped out of his shirt, and still in his pants he slid into the bed and under the covers. He moved towards her, but not too close. Enough so if she rolled over it would be into the circle of his arms. He had planned it that way, even if he would deny it. Eventually she did roll over right into his embrace.

He almost smiled, but another whimper from her made his protective instinct kick in. She was having a nightmare. Sweat beaded her face and she was shaking even in sleep. He did what his instinct said to do and pulled her tight against him. He tried to absorb her fear and stop her shaking. It worked somewhat and she began to calm down. She buried her head in his bare chest. Her hair felt so good on his bare skin…she smelled wonderful as well. Like sunflowers and…lavender he decided. He inhaled her scent deeply and buried his head in her hair. He'd never felt so…accepted as he did when he was holding her.

It felt like the whole world was slowing down and narrowing down to just them being together. He never wanted this moment to end. He fell into a deep, comforting sleep, one he hadn't had in years. He dreamed of sunflowers and sunlit fields.

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AN2: Whew. Finally got this out, it took too long, horribly sorry, but I'll post chapter three either tomorrow or Monday as penance. If I made any other mistakes (besides my changes in Tomoyo) please let me know. It's been forever since I've read the manga….so yeah. No flames or I will post them and laugh at you until you cry! Oh yeah, and everyone MUST LISTEN TO GACKT! (Sorry, in love with him).

Love and peace and apologies,

-Kurai-Tenshi of Doom


	3. Chapter 3

The Black King

Chapter Three:

AN: You know what's sad? I've had this done for eons. Everything creatively has been so disconnected for me for like a year now, nothing has had much priority. But now I'm back and ready to write! So I hope you all missed me, give me plenty, plenty of nice reviews, new and old, and I'll get another chapter up this week. And I mean it this time. Hardcore.

Disclaimer: Like you don't already know this. Come now, I won't underestimate you.

Tomoyo came into wakefulness slowly. She supposed she actually woke up three times, even if she was never fully awake. More or less as if she was sensing things around her, and the first thing she sensed was that someone was holding her. Her almost drugged-feeling conscious only made her aware of the wonderful feeling of completion and belonging she felt in the embrace of this man. She could feel the nice chest and she could smell the scent of recently fallen rain. It was so perfect and wonderful that she fell back into sleep fully, totally at peace, more then she'd ever been since her mother had died. The feeling in her heart would've taken her years to fully explain at that moment.

She dreamt again of the man on the flaming horse kissing her so beautifully, except this time he smelled of recently fallen rain.

The next time she gained some kind of sense of things around her, the man was awake. She was still buried in his chest, but she could tell he was awake. He was so nice and warm any cold she had in her heart and soul was banished.

His long fingered hands were stroking her hair in a very comforting manner. It was odd how something so seemingly intimate that she'd never done with a man before didn't unnerve her or make her shy in any way, when she was normally incredibly shy and withdrawn. She stayed in her half-conscious state for a few more moments before his soothing stroking put her back to sleep, this time a deep dreamless one.

The third time she woke up she woke up fully and her eyes opened, blinking to get the bright sunlight out of her eyes. It bathed the whole room liberally in warm, sleepy yellow light and attempting to lull her back to sleep. She remembered the man and was confused to see herself alone in the bed. Her arms were still stretched out, as if someone had pulled themselves from them. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees.

The sun made the room such a bright contrast to the world of cold and shadows it had been last night. The one and only large window in the centre of the room supplied just enough light to coat most of the room. She closed her eyes allowing the little coloured dots to fade. Then she carefully sat up. Her hair fell into her face and she remembered someone stroking it. She frowned then. Who could've been doing that? The Black King? No, he was much too cold emotionally to provide such intimacy. It just didn't fit him.

And yet she'd seen things in his eyes when he'd dropped his guard those few times…things that made him seem almost like a regular, caring human. And then memories of the screams of women and children of her village came to her, harsh and powerful making her head throb and her eyes begin to sting and water. She gripped her knees tighter. She outlawed any thoughts of him being human. Any man who could kill so ruthlessly, or even allow such a massacre, was nothing short of the devil.

She threw back the covers, slightly regretting loosing the warmth they brought. She smelled like sleep and she wanted to splash some water or something on her face so she could wake up easier. Barefoot she cautiously slid from the bed and stood. Her legs gave out. She fell with a cry and banged her shin hard on the thick rug covering most of the hardwood floor of the room. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away. She'd gotten worse little cuts or something or other working in the bakery.

She clung to the side of the bed and finally managed to stand, although she still clutched the bed. Taking a few deep breaths she let go of the bed and took a few dizzying moments filled with slight vertigo to get her balance and bearings. Wobbling slightly she made her way to the window. As she neared it, her slightly blurry vision cleared fully and she gasped.

It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. It was stained-glass and the design on it was a great mural. It took her a few moments to see that it was a design of a utopia. People with snow-white wings moved around a clean efficient village. The detail and skillfulness in which it was done was mind-numbing in itself. She wanted to touch it, but some insane idea said she might ruin it. Gaping at the mural gave her back her strength, and she moved out around the rest of the room.

It was extremely large, seeming almost like a whole wing of the castle. He had mainly put things in the one end, the one she had seen and was in, the other decorated with shadows and the fireplace. She assumed at night it illuminated the less lived-in side. The room he'd gone into last night had been a closet, she saw this now as she peeked around the door. She closed it fast, having no desire to go sifting though his underclothes.

There were many books and scrolls with shelves to hold them, lining almost the whole wall, and the room itself was slightly messy, old clothes lying all over the place and books and scrolls as well. She tried to step around most of it, but failed most of the time. On the other side of the large bed, which was placed on a kind of pedestal in the centre of the room, there was another door.

When she opened it, she found a sort of room for bathing. There was a basin for washing, and a tub of sorts that could fit quite a few people. It seemed like the measure of the rich was how large something they owned was. She eyed the bell on the wall. If she rang it, would someone come? Would it call the Black King himself? She doubted that, but she reached out and pulled the twine string anyways. She didn't hear the second bell ringing that, in essence, paged the listener at the other end, so she went back into the other room and closed the door to the bathroom.

It was odd how she took the opportunity then to notice the brother bell to the one in the bathroom. The room itself was a grim affair even with the merry sunshine, so the bronze bell was slightly downplayed. She eyed the twine connected to this one and walked to it. Precariously she pulled it. Nothing happened. And then the bell rang back the careful little noise not making much of a dent on the suffocating silence of the room.

Tomoyo sat on the bed waiting for what was to come to come. It did, when she was getting bored enough to want to begin rooting through his scrolls and things, the door was thrown open and in bustled the kind old woman who had attended her the night before. Her face spilt into a comforting smile and the sunshine seemed to be brighter with it.

She moved to Tomoyo's side and smiled down at the timid girl. "My, oh my, seems as if he didn't hurt you now did he? Good thing too, or I'd have to tan his hide, nya?" Tomoyo still stared at the woman. "Wooh! Don't stare at me like that; your eyes are something powerful they are. You'll give an old woman like me a heart-attack! Pretty little thing you are. But suppose you already knew that, nya?" she was speaking perfect Japanese, which confused Tomoyo at first.

She looked away from her warm eyes. "May I have a bath?" she asked, voice small. "But of course. I'll get the water for you. Just wait here." Tomoyo heard her going back into the bathing room. There was a small noise of surprise and then the woman came back out looking confused. "Someone has already pulled the bell for the water. There's a bucket already." Tomoyo spoke up: "It was me. I pulled it." The woman smiled again. She did that a lot.

"Come darling. I'll start filling it; we can get you a nice kimono. I believe the Head Priestess has a few. She's from Japan as well." Tomoyo looked back at the woman finally. This caught her attention. Maybe she wasn't the only one the Black King had kept as a prisoner. She let the woman lead her into the bathing room where she was stripped and told to get into the tub. It was really more like a giant bowl large enough for her to go under and sit at the bottom of completely covered. She sat and let the water flow over her ivory skin as the woman poured it in. "What's-" she cleared her throat so her voice wasn't as groggy, "What's your name?" she asked, feeling it rude the woman was so nice to her and she didn't even know her name.

The woman paused for a moment. "Isa." She replied then asked her the same. "Tomoyo." She answered, just as simply. No last name was needed; they would have no need for formalities here. "He'll take good care of you Tomoyo-san." Isa whispered, suddenly very grave. The water was finally up to Tomoyo's neck. "He scares me." She whispered back. The old woman sighed, as if she received that answer more then enough. "Yes, he scares most. The worst part is most of the blood that is spilt in his battles is from those evil men he's hired for his army. He hates killing innocents." She shook her head, and then grabbed some oils from a shelf above the tub and a rough sponge.

Tomoyo was surprised, but still angry at him. "Anyone who is killed in battle is innocent. Being a soldier makes you no less innocent then anyone else. People seem to forget that…" she looked into the steaming water. Isa didn't answer this. "He's making peace for us all. Keeping the discontent out of China is something that can only profit, and conquering new lands is gaining us so much power. We bring peace to all we conquer, even if it is done in a bloody manner." Tomoyo was a little shocked by the audacity in the loyalty this woman had for her lord, and the intelligence she possessed for a mere servant. She had no right to look down on her either, she scolded herself. She had assumed because she was a woman servant her education must have been little, if anything at all. She shook her head and splayed little droplets of water.

"You're much better then the other girls' he brings home. You have at least half a brain in your head." Her tone was light. "Yes, but I fear it's already gotten me into trouble." She sighed and let the woman massage her hair with a nice soap and then some oil, and eventually clean her. "He must really like you Tomoyo-san, there's not many who have talked back to him and lived." She stood then and rang the bell. Tomoyo finally saw where the water had been coming from. She opened a small hatch in the wall and there was a pulley system and on the little lift with two towels. She rinsed and stepped into them. "You just stay like this and I'll run and find the Head Priestess. She'll be happy to give you something I'm sure." She made her way out then, leaving Tomoyo dripping slightly in her rough towel and nothing else.

Tomoyo made her way back into the room. She looked around. The sun was still as bright as earlier. She wondered if he would only be coming back at night. She remembered what he'd told her the previous night about his men. She shivered suddenly. She was still too scared to leave the room that she knew for certain. She was more frightened of his wrath then his men. But then again if Isa was telling the truth, then maybe his men were worth fearing.

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He decided to return to his rooms early tonight. Isa had sniped at him, claiming leaving the "poor girl" up there all alone was a horrible thing to do to her. Especially now that she was all alone in this castle, hell this country, knowing no one. He couldn't deny some part of him was glad to be going back to see her, but another was nervous. He had lain with her all night and in the morning after waking up with her wrapped in his arms he'd stroked that beautiful hair again. He hated that just holding her was enough.

He was still looking for a way to pin this on mainly lust. Her soul-filled eyes were making it very hard. He was slightly unnerved to think he may not be able to just have her and be done with it. This may be more difficult then this. His hand on the door stopped for a moment too long, long enough for him to kick himself. He took a deep breath and dove right in.

He entered the room, trying to remain impassive. It all fell apart when he saw the empty room. His heart skipped four beats before his hand was whipping out his sword and he was running back down the hallway. He threw open every door, for the first time in a very long time, something akin to fear blossoming in his breast. He was running down stairs, throwing open all doors, running through every hallway.

He found her near the kitchens. She whipped around as she heard him approach then screamed.

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It had taken Tomoyo until nightfall to find the need to leave the room. Her fear had been great, but she was hungry and no one was ringing back on the bell. She grabbed a dagger off the desk in his room and slipped it into the somewhat boots she'd been given. The High Priestess had been missing, so she'd been given a light dress instead to wear, much like the slip she'd worn to bed, but longer and a warmer material. The straps were small, and her breasts were a bit snug, but it would work for now. She ventured out into the hall timidly.

An hour later and she hadn't seen a soul in the halls. She was mainly following her nose. She felt she was just around the corner from the kitchens. Her stomach lurched and she quickened her pace. It was then she heard someone running very fast in boots that clicked on the hard floor. She heard steel scrape the ground and she stopped dead. Around the corner in the torch-lit hallway came the Black King. The look on his face was murderous and with the naked blade, Tomoyo felt the scream leaving her lips before she could stop it.

He slid to a stop just in front of her, and advanced at a jungle-cat like walk. Tomoyo retreated until her back hit the wall. "What-did-I-tell-you!?!?" he hissed. Shivers ran all through her. Correction, now she'd never been more terrified. His large hands gripped her shoulders somewhat painfully. The sword had been put away with a practiced ease only a master could obtain. He shoved her against the wall. Her head cracked against it and she cried out. He leaned in snarling in her face. "I told you not to leave that room!! Why didn't you listen?! You could've been killed, or raped, or worse!!" Tomoyo whimpered. He was leaving bruises.

"You're…hurting me." She gasped out. He looked manic almost. "You should've listened!! I can't protect you if you leave!" Tomoyo's head snapped up and she eyed him. "You…you're trying to protect me?" This called him back from insanity. He blinked and the mad light in his eyes cleared like shadows in a bright light. He let go of her abruptly. She stumbled forward. She dropped to her knees. "You want to protect…" She whispered.

His profile was to her, but he glared down at her. "Don't be so full of yourself, girl." His voice was cold. There were a few moments of silence, and then he spoke again. "Get up." It wasn't a request. She remained on the ground. He snarled at her again. "You would disobey me again?!" Tomoyo jumped, but he bent down and grabbed her around the waist. With little effort, due to her small weight, he threw her over his shoulder.

She made her eep-ing noise again and squirmed. She had no idea how this effected Eriol. Her breasts were pushing very snugly into his back and he had to bite his lip to stop a small groan from passing them. He made his way back to his room carrying his prize. "Please, I'm sorry, I was hungry, I just wanted something to eat and no one answered the bell, I was just hungry." Eriol re-shifted her. It sounded like she was crying.

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He closed the door to his room behind them and threw her onto the bed. He said not a word to her, but instead sat down at his desk. Someone must've started the fire sometime either before or after they had left. She whimpered and sat back on the bed. Eriol tried to focus on his paperwork for two farmers fighting over one using the others' land. He kept looking back to her. She was trying not to fall asleep. He sighed and dropped his quill. "Did I hurt your shoulders?" he asked, not looking at her.

She started at his voice suddenly. "No." she answered quietly. He could tell she was ashamed at not putting up a greater fight. He stood up and moved to the bedside. He sat down and noticed this time she didn't shy away from him, but remained as she was. "Did you…sleep with me last night?" her question was hesitant. He cursed at himself. He hoped she hadn't thought he'd tried anything, although the memory was very fond in his mind. "I laid not a hand on you, as I promised." But he was lying; he had touched her, even if it was only a simple embrace.

He decided to take the offensive. "Do you now deny me my own bed, woman?" he had power in his voice, and she looked up to him, wide-eyed. He meant none of it. He merely enjoyed her timid mannerisms. Her eyes narrowed. Eriol almost smiled. She was beginning to fight back. "You've denied me any chance of peace; I think your bed is enough penance." "Stolen your peace have I?" he acted bemused.

Tomoyo shook her head. "You've slaughtered my people, destroyed my home and burned my village. Terribly sorry I'm not at peace with those thoughts." She practically snarled at him. He lost any sense of amusement, her comments almost piercing him. "My lady, you seem to forget most humbly that I saved your life. And instead of taking it, among other things, I left you be." He knew his gaze was ice. If not literally for the power he'd been known to cast towards others' in those eyes.

She looked down, but the fire of her anger was not so easily extinguished; he could see that much. "My good sir, you have given me life where others' would not have. And for that, I owe you much. But you still destroyed my home. Whether you yourself did or your men you seem to occasionally slip hold of, you still reaped me of any chance at a normal life. You have done this much to me; can you now not just let me be? Let me free, even if it is in your own land; in death, or casting me out into the wilderness, may I please just be let free from this hellish cage you have put me in? You've taken my freedom and that is the only thing I have left. Please return this to me." It was a mournful plea near the end, but Eriol would hear none of it.

"I will not free you my lady. Not yet." He watched her, head bowed, hair covering her face like an ebony curtain. His eyes narrowed. This seemed to be her breaking point; his refusal. She crumpled and had to support herself with her hands splayed out before her knees. "Please! What do you keep me here for?! I am but a lowly commoner, I have nothing of value, all I want is to be free! You haven't killed me, you haven't taken me to your bed, you haven't placed me in a prison, and you haven't tried me for information of my own country! Why am I here?!" she raised her face slightly and he saw the silent tears making veteran trails down her high cheekbones.

He felt something in him hurting at her tears, but he quickly hardened himself to it, and reached out. He took her chin between his long fingers and tilted her face up to his, but not forcefully. She tried to jerk away, but his hold was much too strong. Her eyes widened in fear and he saw her thinking that she had pushed the line, threw him over it. "Look at me." His voice was soft.

He saw her reluctance and she tried to move again, but he tightened his hold slightly. He was too afraid to bruise such ivory skin so he released his sharp hold immediately, letting his fingers go lack. She didn't pull away, but instead stayed precariously in his hold. Not leaning into it, not pushing vehemently away.

Her watery eyes met his and neither tried searching the others' for anything. It was only a deep gaze, with so much and so little meaning at the same time. This gave him some hope. "I will tell you this once, and only once. All my decisions are never without ulterior motives and perfect accuracy. Why you are here…is still slightly unclear to me. I will find my decision as to what to do with you and why I have kept you, but before then I once again give you my word. Until the point in which I uncover why, I will give you my best man to watch you and you may leave the room if only with him and with my permission. If he tells me of you leaving him or attempting escape, which I assure you now, is impossible, you will be restricted to my rooms for the rest of your…stay. Until I decide what to do with you, you are my guest, and as my guest no harm shall befall you so long as you are with the man I will be having watch you. Do you understand?" She blinked finally, breaking the connection they had made with each others' eyes, and Eriol felt a slight disappointment. He enjoyed looking into her eyes for some reason.

He released her carefully and she pulled back slightly. He knew her question before she asked it; he had seen it in her eyes the moment she'd woken up in the bed of the Black King. "Because I had no decision for you as soon as I saw you." She seemed puzzled, but looked away shyly as Eriol stood and sat himself back at his desk.

He got very little paper work done, he just wasn't focused.

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AN2: Good? I really hope so everyone. I offer all apologies, sincerely. I'll try my absolute hardest to make more time for my writing. I miss it. It feels empty without it, nya? And it's funny because I've changed so much since I've looked at this last...it's odd. Anyways, plenty of nice reviews! And you'll have more so soon!

So much LOVE!,

Kurai-Tenshi --;;

"I'll be brave tonight, either live or die..."


	4. Chapter 4

The Black King

Chapter Four:

AN: Everyone thank you so so so so so much for being supportive and revewing so much! I've missed all of this, and it's so good to be back! Here it is, with, hopefully, a new chapter after even faster! You're all so amazing, drop me some more reviews!!

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Tomoyo watched him carefully. He was bent over his work, but he seemed distracted. Not once did he looked back to her after informing her of her new somewhat freedom. She was happy; correction, she was practically ecstatic. This was one small step towards her being freed.

She watched him though. Curled against the headboard with the thick sheets and heavy quilt pulled up around her she watched his strong and devilishly handsome profile. She watched how he thought, how he looked while thinking. It was an almost cute sort of thing, his brow creased and his eyes became glassy. She never focused directly on him more or less watched from the corner of her eyes, which were steadfastly directed towards the sheets. Through her thick eyelashes she eyed him and noticed how much like a beautiful statue he was; some kind of marveled carving. Finally sleep began to slip tendrils around her. It was a slow-process, but he was much too intent on his work to notice her slipping into the bed and under the covers. She slept facing him, trusting him enough to sleep in his presence and yet not presenting her back to him. Not yet.

She awoke in the depths of the night, blackness cloaking her vision and whimpers from her nightmare of her mother literally melting before her eyes. The fire was out, and a thick, but weak, bit of moonlight drifted lazily across the room as the clouds cleared from the moon. At one point she became aware that the Black King was lying as far away from her as he could, stiff as a board.

She puzzled for a moment, and thought with a start that maybe she disgusted him and he only let her live out of pity. Something in her pained horribly when she thought this so she pushed it aside. She was very cold. And he seemed very warm. She decided against sneaking closer to him. If he had been holding her last night, let him do it again. There was no way she was going to lead him on. Not for someone she hated so much it made her heart hurt. She turned over and curled into a tight ball, hoping this would warm her. Slowly her exhaustion took over and she fell back into sleep.

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Eriol had taken the far side of the bed, nervous almost of his grip over his own actions. He wanted so badly to take her back into his arms, but he had made a promise and he was loath to break it now. He never closed his eyes once. Her whimpers made him clench his hands together so he would not cradle her and hopefully stop her demons from attacking her in her sleep.

She woke up at some point, he felt it, but a few minutes later she was again asleep. He thought at one point he too had drifted off, but he'd been so restless he'd woken himself up again. It was her shivering and whimpers that broke him. He'd put out the fire because he never liked sleeping with it lit, it made him wake up with a nasty cough and an ash taste in his mouth, but he was always a bit cold.

Before his mind could react to his actions he'd flipped himself over in an agitated sort of manner, yet surely, and thrown himself towards her. His arms slid under her very skillfully and over her, dragging her against his chest and offering her his warmth. She was rigid at first, but, thank Kami, she stayed asleep. She was so small compared to him! But she fit so perfectly. Almost instantly his soul felt at peace and his mind drifted into sleep. He heard her sigh happily and inhale deeply. Her shivers stopped.

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Tomoyo awoke the next morning much as she had the last. Very relaxed and after a good night sleep again about the odd knight. She now knew something new. He loved her. It was an odd realisation, but a true one. She'd felt it strongly even in the dream. Some part of her wondered who he was and another blamed it on simple fantasy of a lonely mind. She shook it off as she became aware that she was again in the position of out-stretched arms. And she knew someone had held her again.

It looked like the Black King had caved in the end. She tried not to let this make her blush, but she failed horribly. Suddenly there was a booming knock on the door. Tomoyo "eep-ed" shrilly and nearly jumped to the ceiling. After she caught her breath she said in her meek, quiet little voice: "Come in." she stood from the bed as she said this and watched as a girl her own age literally bounced into the room.

Over her arm rested an odd bundle of clothes along with three simple but effective kimono. There was a smile like sunshine on her delicate and pretty face. Her auburn hair glinted with lighter natural highlights as she skipped through a patch of sunlight. Tomoyo watched her slightly awed as she stopped before her. Her sparkling emerald eyes, which were both wide-eyed and innocent and deep and intelligent, were an eternal greeting to her. "Wow. You're really pretty!" Tomoyo flushed and looked to the ground shyly.

"_D-Domo gozaimasu_." She stuttered going with the girl's polished Japanese. She was lucky she had to use so little Chinese. She spoke it, but not very well. The girl only smiled brightly in return to her thanks. She threw out her hand that wasn't carrying the clothes. "Sakura, at yer service! I brought all this stuff, cuz Isa-chan told me you needed some kimono from the High Priestess." She motioned with her arm and the clothes fell to a pile on the ground. The girl cursed in just as polished Chinese and Tomoyo bent to help her pick them up, slightly flustered at her language.

They both stood and met each others' eyes. Tomoyo broke the contact and held out her own hand timidly. "I'm Tomoyo." She said quietly. The girl looked to her hand, and then bowed politely before grabbing it and laying a quick kiss on her wrist. Tomoyo was slightly thrown-off by this, but she recovered as the girl stood fast and placed the kimono on the bed behind her. She eyed Tomoyo. "Let's get you cleaned up Tomoyo-san. I'm sure Eriol-sama doesn't like his…guests to be dirty." She winked and pulled Tomoyo into the bathing room.

It must've been an hour or two later, when a very happy Sakura was sitting with Tomoyo on the bed, brushing her wet hair happily that she asked what she'd been thinking since before Sakura had slipped into the bath with her. "Why did you hesitate by calling me a guest?" she felt Sakura freeze for a moment, then resume her brushing in the same monotonous manner.

Her own shorter hair had been brushed coarsely by her self earlier. "Well, I don't really know but…everyone's saying you're Eriol-kun's…well…" she trailed off and stopped brushing. Tomoyo turned to face her and saw she was as red as a cherry. She caught on and flushed crimson as well. "It's not true!" she cried out adamantly, very embarrassed. "Yes, all the men are very curious and angry that…please excuse me lovely Tomoyo-san, but they say a Japanese whore shouldn't just be for Eriol-sama's pleasure. They all hate you without even knowing that's not true. It's because they're all such stupid, evil people who just hate the Japanese for no reason except they're a little different." She looked passionate about her belief.

She looked back to Tomoyo. "I believed it until I met you Tomoyo-san. You're much to shy to be what all those men think. Plus I believe Eriol-kun wouldn't do that to a woman. Even though you're so beautiful." "You call him Eriol-kun?" Sakura paled now. "Oh yes, please don't tell anyone. Eriol-sama and I have been friends for a very long time. Since we were all little. It's somewhat odd to have to be so respectful to one of my best friends. But I try to keep up appearances for him." "Him and Li-kun…" somehow after saying this name she became redder then earlier.

She watched the sheets then, completely shy and withdrawn. There was an odd sparkle in her eyes. Tomoyo knew that name was someone very special to her, but who it was she had no idea.

The girls' ordered lunch from a happy Isa and talked until dusk. Sakura was quickly becoming Tomoyo's best friend. She told her so. "Oh, Tomoyo-chan that makes me so happy!!" Sakura wailed and hugged her soundly. She had a habit for randomly hugging her. "Let's not get dinner. Eriol-sama will have it with you." She winked and Tomoyo glared. "I told you a hundred times, he's just being merciful. There's nothing to it." Sakura snorted. "Tomoyo-chan, do you know what you look like?" Tomoyo looked to the sheets uncomfortably.

"I haven't looked in awhile…but what does that matter? All these people tell me I'm beautiful, but does that mean I am?" Sakura looked shocked. "Stay here Tomoyo-chan!" she cried jumping from the bed and bolting out of the room. She was a long time coming back, but when she did she knocked on the door and Tomoyo was met with Sakura sporting a vanity with a large mirror.

Tomoyo rolled up the sleeves of her borrowed kimono, which fit very nicely, and helped her drag it in and place it in a shadowed corner. Sakura grabbed the stool as well and made Tomoyo sit in front of the mirror. Although reluctant, she obeyed after much goading. She slid onto the stool and slowly opened her eyes, practically cringing. She almost gasped.

An attractively pale girl looked back at her thorough beautiful amethyst (AN: yeah, changed it, like this lots better, don't like me changing it, stuff it up yer…well, you know) eyes that were deep and shone in the fading sunlight out the window. Her face was smooth and very delicate, everything about it unflawed. Her nose was a nice shape, her lips nice and lush. Her hair hung in an amazing pool around her…somehow, without her knowing it; she'd come into this womanly beauty and not even known.

Sakura was grinning. "Told you." She bragged. Tomoyo didn't let this "beauty" go to her head. Her physical side had never interested her much. Her figure may be a nice shape, full curves, rounded, perfect breasts, but that didn't change anything. Besides, Sakura was pretty and she didn't hover over it. "I wish I was as gorgeous as you Tomoyo-chan." She whispered to her. Tomoyo was red again. This was too much.

She stood almost angrily. "So what? Looks don't mean anything to me." she stormed away from the mirror and a sneaky Sakura went to her, telling her she needed to leave, but she would be back tomorrow. Tomoyo hated to see her go, but Sakura left before she could complain. The girl disappeared in a brown-haired blur slamming the door behind her. Tomoyo blinked slightly surprised. She was fast when she wanted to be. Must be athletic as well.

Shrugging Tomoyo began to root through the papers and the many scrolls and papers on the ground finally settling on an interesting one about some old military tactics. She sat herself on the bed, immersed deeply in things she barely understood, but felt a wonderful hunger for….

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Eriol was seated at the Grand Table in the Grand Dining Hall. 'What's so 'Grand' about all these places anyway?' he thought sarcastically. "Eriol-sama, dinner ended two hours ago." Sakura's voice didn't surprise him. He'd known she'd been standing behind him for a few moments now. Eriol sighed and leaned back in his throne-like seat at the head of a table that seemed to stretch into eternity before him.

There was an almost similar seat next to his, one that had once held his mother's royal figure. Now it was empty and foreboding. It had been placed there only this night. Eriol knew his advisors had pulled such a stunt in order to keep the nobles off of him. Their slutty daughters had been crawling all over him as soon as it had been rumoured he would soon be taking a bride. Of course it had all been smoke and mirrors, but not all entirely. It had been whispered among a few that he would marry one of the daughters of the Emperor of Japan, if not a rich noble of Japanese descent.

He had to in order to form peace with Japan at such a crucial time for a divided China. He buried his head in his hand, ruffling his hair. Sakura slipped around and kneeled at his side. "You know, she is incredibly beautiful. Why you hold yourself from going to see her is beyond me." Sakura may be incredibly sweet and occasionally naïve, but it never seemed to be about anyone other then her own love life.

Eriol snapped to attention, hand falling away and his mouth dropping open slightly. He eyed her casual features. She was trying very hard not to be anything but nonchalant. She was doing a relatively good job, if Eriol hadn't known her for the majority of her life. His gaze stiffened and his lips formed a narrow line. "Eriol-kun it looks as if your lips are going to disappear into your chin!" she giggled, breaking her casual attitude. Eriol held back the power of his gaze. Li would massacre him if he hurt her.

Plus his own small instinct in him that cared about Sakura deeply and acted as her older brother stopped him from ever doing anything but harmless play. She didn't look at him. There was silence until Sakura reached out and tried to swat him suddenly. He ducked perfectly, but almost strained his neck doing so. "_Baka!_ She's up there all alone in that large room, in the dark of night, with no food in her stomach and needing a big strong man to protect her!"

She seemed mad, but Eriol knew better. She was the only one who could call him such and live to tell the tale. But Sakura didn't care. She was just like that. He hid a small smirk. "I doubt she needs any protecting." He looked away, slightly abashed. "Oh Eriol-kun you are such a dolt" She sighed and shook her head.

"There's some extra food in the kitchen, still warm. She hasn't eaten in awhile and I assure you, for some strange reason the bell for her room is being ignored…" Sakura trailed off mysteriously and winked at him. Eriol only glared at her sullenly. "I'll tell Li to stop in and see you with a snack." This struck a chord she blushed deep scarlet and jumped away from him, cursing in two different languages at once. "_Onegai_, get out of here." She waved, frustrated, over her shoulder and left the Hall.

Eriol sat and thought for a few moments, brow furrowed and eyes intense. He could've melted stone had it been conveniently in front of him. He stood swiftly, once again like a jungle cat and prowled towards the kitchens, cursing Sakura the whole way.

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Tomoyo, unknown to Eriol, was at the same time cursing the same girl. One kimono had fit a little loosely and had been rather decent. But the nightclothes provided were not meant for winter wear. A sort of silk material, they were comprised of a slip-like overdress and a pair of frilly shorts beneath the slip, which reached just above the knees. It knotted in the back, leaving her whole back almost bare. As she tied it, with some difficulty, she felt horribly exposed.

She wrapped her arms around herself and eyed the fireplace growing smaller in the deepening darkness of the nighttime room. She quickly lit the candle on the bedside table then rose to move to the fireplace. She looked it over before deciding she would need a robe of some kind. On a whim she explored the Black King's closet. He had plenty of robes, most threadbare or worn and seemed un-used. She grabbed one that looked warm and soft and not too moth-eaten.

She threw it around herself and almost drowned in it. She eep-ed and attempted to roll back the sleeves. It barely worked, but she had her hands moderately freed after a few moments. Sighing and ruffling her hair so it was fluffy and not as…organised as Sakura had made it she tried to get to work on the fireplace, but discovered she had no method of lighting it so she gave up and sat back down on the bed picking up another scroll she'd been reading before she'd decided to change.

She tried to re-bury herself in the tactics of the Black King, but failed as there was an almost reluctant knock on the door. She jumped slightly, but knew who it was immediately. She threw the scroll to the ground, hoping it wasn't too obvious she'd been reading it and waited for him to enter. He didn't, so she stood and moved to the door tripping over the robe. She slammed into the hard door quite painfully, but picked herself up quickly.

She opened the door slightly. She knew it was him; she could just feel it. Like he was some kind of…beacon and when he approached she could fell this beacon light up…she was mad. This room was driving her insane. She opened the door all the way upon seeing he carried a tray of food that smelled wonderful even from where she stood. She tried not to appear too surprised by his bringing her food and too terribly hungry, but she was.

He teetered into the room awkwardly and she darted out of his way. He eventually just placed the tray carefully onto the ground. She stayed where she was and shut the door carefully. He kept his back to her. She moved closer, eyeing the food. "Eat." And he moved away from the tray.

Like a timid little rabbit she eyed him then the food. Finally she didn't care and she plopped herself onto the ground and happily began to eat. Eriol carefully moved around her and sat opposite her, reaching for a dumpling. Tomoyo watched him then looked away when he looked to her. They ate in a companionable silence. Finally it got too dark to really see properly, so Eriol stood and lit the fire.

Tomoyo missed how he did it and she regretted it. He came back and sat across from her. "Is that my robe?" he asked after a few moments in which Tomoyo finished eating. She jumped slightly and began to slide it off her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I was cold and I just wanted something to warm me because Sakura gave me some…not too comfortable clothes for bed-" He held up a hand and silenced her rambling. The ghost of a smile was in his eyes. "It's fine." He murmured.

Tomoyo blushed, slightly embarrassed and slid it back onto her bare shoulders. "It looks better on you." He said casually shrugging. He stood and placed the tray on his desk. Tomoyo felt like this was a compliment and her ears coloured slightly. Eriol looked back to her. He looked as if he were analysing her. Tomoyo felt small under his intense gaze. The room was very silent as rain began to pelt the windows in a steady drizzle. He seemed to be deciding something in his head, but what she had no idea.

When the thunder rumbled lazily and then a pitchfork of lightening lit up the room even more with its almost white flash almost mocking the fire, she jumped and shrieked. Thunder had always been her fear. It was odd considering all other things she wasn't afraid of, but when she was little she had once stayed outside too long against her mother's wishes and had been locked outside during a ferocious thunderstorm when her mother had gone to earnestly search for her.

She began to shiver and wrapped herself in a hug. She barely heard Eriol crouching down next to her. "Are you all right?" he asked, tone almost listless. She suddenly remembered where she was. Hating herself, she sat straight and tried not to let her fear become apparent. Well, more apparent then it already was. Letting him see her weakness was not an option. "I'm f-fine." She tried to look indifferent to her reaction to the lightening.

But then it struck again and all the horrified memories of her curling into a small ball in her doorway and watching the lightening strike so close looking like it was going to hit her…she screwed her eyes shut attempting to resist shrieking again. He was still eyeing her suspiciously. "Are you afraid of the thunder?" She tried to look affronted. "No. I said I'm fine." But then lightening struck again, this one loud and rattling, and she let loose her inhibitions and shrieked soundly, ducking to the rugged floor and curling over herself. She heard a chuckle.

After her shakes subsided enough so she could look up over the cradle of her arms she saw it was the Black King who was chuckling. It was a fast thing, a noise that was deep and she imagined she could feel in her own body deep in her chest. His face looked for the moment, not controlled by some sense of rigidness or lack of emotion. There was an almost merriness in his face, and a glow lit up his cheeks in a pleasant way.

"Don't laugh at me…" But it was a low whimper. When his smile grew slightly she put her head up and glared at him, her fear, for the second, forgotten. "Sir, I suggest you stop laughing at me!" she sat up leaning on her arms with her knees tucked under her. He ignored her, his chuckle spreading into a laugh he had to hide behind his hand. "Sir! You would laugh at a lady such as me when I am in fear?!"

He finally stopped and opened his eyes looking back to her and meeting hers', which were burning in anger. The glow in his cheeks was still apparent, although his smile had faded. "I doubt that you are a lady." She couldn't believe it! He was teasing her! The mighty and great Emperor of China was teasing her. "I should slap you for that." She muttered. But then there was another strike of thunder. Tomoyo flinched and dove down again, seeking shelter in her arms.

"I am sorry milady. Shall I help you to the bed?" and before she could question what he meant he had slid his arms under her and around and was lifting her up into his arms. Normally Tomoyo would've been appalled by this, but when the thunder sounded, farther away now, she eep-ed and curled into him. She seemed so small compared to him! Her head tucked nicely into his chest and he was very warm and cozy.

In fact, she seemed to fit nicely into him. His hands were very large and strong. They were calloused from his sword, she guessed. He didn't hold her too close; it was more or less Tomoyo who was clinging to him. But she wanted him to hold her close. In fact during the very short walk to his bed she wanted a lot of things. None of which she could identify.

He slipped her into the bed and he turned away as she slid under to covers. She slipped off the robe and let it drop to the ground. The rain pounding outside was enough to make her want to crawl under the covers. But as Eriol moved away, she found her hand reaching out for his robe sleeve. He stopped firmly.

He seemed to be fighting something himself. He turned to face her, and she saw his eyes widen and a glow appeared in them. And when she looked back Tomoyo would believe that was the moment she began to fall in love with the Black King.

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Eriol couldn't help laughing at her. She was rather adorable when she was scared. Of course he was also laughing so as not to pull her into an embrace from which he would never release her, but the fire in her eyes greatly amused him. There again was that fire, that beautiful fight she had in her. He wouldn't want a woman who would lay down and take everything that came. She was timid, but he could tell that was quickly disappearing.

He had picked her up, attempting to be innocent with it, but once her wonderful smell had hit his senses he lost all thoughts of innocence. She was such a fragile little thing, he was almost afraid of smashing her. Like glass. She was like a wonderful flame against his chest, except she didn't burn him; instead she was soft and beautiful. He laid her in the bed and turned away fast, hoping his desire wasn't burning in his eyes.

It must be so obvious to her; she must be disgusted by him. He was acting like a lecher. Self-disgust was an old friend to him and he welcomed it now. It was when her hand gripped his sleeve and he turned and looked into her wide and confused eyes and he eyed her with her hair spread out like a black curtain on the white pillows and an oddly yearning look that everything before about not touching her disappeared from his mind.

His body felt like it was on fire; just one simple look from her that seemed like want made him go insane. He wanted to bury his hands in that silky hair and kiss her until they both fainted from lack of air. And he knew that doing that for the rest of his life would never be enough. Looking at her, gazing into her eyes for the rest of his life would never be enough.

His hand reached out uncertainly towards her cheek and when his hand brushed the baby-soft pearly skin he trembled slightly. Her eyes widened as his hand slid down her cheek and rested on her chin. And then he leaned in towards her. Closer…closer…his lips were just an inch from hers', and closer, he could feel her nervous breath, those lush, rosy lips, he could imagine it now…

The knock on the door stopped him and he pulled back cursing roughly in Chinese. Tomoyo sat up, looking dazed. He didn't want to answer it, but he knew if it was this late it must be important. The thunder had almost subsided by now. He stepped away from the bed, whipping around so he didn't have to see the disgust he knew was there in her glimmering eyes that saw to the core of him.

Syaoran Li awaited him outside. He slammed the door behind him and snarled at him: "What do you want?!" Li knew immediately. It was apparent to him, but not to the girl. He smirked. "Was I interrupting something?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. Eriol's face and lips tightened into their trade-mark line and he stared down Li. "No. Now what do you want?" Li looked serious.

"A riot amongst the men. There's been a murder. Shall I use force? A brute squad perhaps?" Eriol immediately forgot his earlier frivolous feeling and automatically became the great Emperor known as the Black King. He informed Li he would see to it in the morning after the storm. In the meantime use as much force and his wrath as punishment. It wasn't the best decision, but he was being selfish. He didn't care.

Li made another comment and Eriol shot back something about Sakura. Li tackled him and they wrestled in the playful manner they usually did. He almost feared to go back into the room. But then the image of her in the same position she had been in earlier that had nearly seduced him, except this time she was naked, back arched and mouth open in a scream of pleasure. He re-entered the room.

AN2: Here's the slight cliff-hanger, and I'm sorry, but I'll finish the next chapter and have it up soon! Thank you so so so much again for all of the support and welcomes!

LOVE!,

Kurai-Tenshi


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